


Mind over Heart

by eirallina



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Break Up, Broken Promises, Divorce, F/M, Heavy Angst, Relationship Problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 21:49:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17650517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eirallina/pseuds/eirallina
Summary: “Don’t do this,” whispered Bellamy.Clarke looked over where Bellamy stood by the doorway with his hands on his pockets and tore her eyes away as soon as their gazes met. Pay him no mind. She shoved the dress she folded into her blue polka dotted suitcase and was about to add another one in when Bellamy’s hands fell on top of hers, steadying her inexplicably shaking hands. When did he get so close? Why was she shaking?“Don’t touch me.” Clarke said and stepped out of Bellamy’s reach.----------------------------This is an angsty one-shot.





	Mind over Heart

**Author's Note:**

> This will not be a fluffy one. This is full of angst and hurt and tears. There is no happy ending. Read at your own risk.

            “Don’t do this,” whispered Bellamy.

            Clarke looked over where Bellamy stood by the doorway with his hands on his pockets and tore her eyes away as soon as their gazes met.

            Pay him no mind.

            She shoved the dress she folded into her blue polka dotted suitcase and was about to add another one in when Bellamy’s hands fell on top of hers, steadying her inexplicably shaking hands.

            When did he get so close?

            Why was she shaking?  

            “Don’t touch me.” Clarke said and stepped out of Bellamy’s reach.

            “Clarke,” called Bellamy. She tightened her jaw against the sound of his voice and shoved a pair of jeans inside her luggage. Already filled to the brim, her suitcase probably won’t be able take another set of anything, but it has to. It just has to. She has so many things to pack and so little time. “Clarke.”

            “I’m busy, Bellamy.” Clarke hissed, pulling out the jeans she just put in. They were old and tattered and would serve no purpose for her wherever she was going. What was she holding on to them for?

            “Clarke,” Bellamy called out again.

            “What?!”

            Fed up with his incessant useless calls, Clarke threw the tattered jeans onto floor and looked up at Bellamy ready to shout some scathing remarks at him for delaying her task. But whatever she wanted to say got stuck in her throat at the look on his face. His eyes, usually brown and shining, were dim and reflected the turmoil inside of him. He looked confused and concerned but most of all, he looked as heartbroken as she felt.

            Watching him watching her, she wondered if she looked any better.

            “Don’t do this.” Bellamy said. Her eyes flickered down to his lips when she saw his tongue slipping out to wet them and quickly looked away. She has no rights to him anymore. “Clarke, look at me.”

            Before her mind could make her body resist, Clarke returned her gaze to Bellamy and dared not move as he closed the distance between them. His cologne of sandalwood and musk had always calmed her whenever she smelled it, but now the scent was nauseating at best and triggering at worse. She watched as he raised a hand and pressed his palm against her cheek and even though she saw it coming, Clarke flinched at the touch.

            Bellamy let out a breath, a mixture between surprise and resignation, and immediately pulled his hand back to his side.

            “I’m looking,” stated Clarke. It felt like there was something lodged in her throat and she had to clear it before she could speak again. “What do you want?”

            “I love you.” Bellamy confessed without preamble, staring down at her with desperation in his eyes. Once, long ago, those three little words would make her heart race like no other feeling in the world. Now, the utterance of them, by that voice, only brought her pain and regret. Pain gnawed at her insides and regret paralyzed her body as she heard his next words. “I love you, Clarke. Don’t you know that?”

            Who was he kidding?

            Of course she knew.

            They were so close she could see her own reflection in the pool of tears welling in his eyes. All she wanted to do was touch him, make him know that he shouldn’t be cry because he’s a wonderful person and did no wrong, and to brush those tears away when they inevitably fall. But Clarke bit the inside of her cheeks as hard as she could and stayed where she was, arms limp at her side.

            “I know,” was the only thing she could say.

            “Then why are you leaving?”

            The ridiculously obtuse question, marked with innocence and confusion, irked Clarke to no end and she couldn’t help but let out a scoff of derision. She took a deep breath, trying and failing to control the shaking that suddenly took over her body, and suddenly found herself laughing hysterically.

            Why was she leaving?

            What a stupid question asked by a stupid man.

            What a stupid man…

            To his credit, Bellamy waited until her hysterical laughter died down before he stared her down with an inquisitive look that requested more answers than she could give. Clarke cleared her throat and gave a half-hearted shrug that spoke of nothing about the ache inside her heart at his question and his insinuation. There was no need to get into that anymore. She already made her decision.

            “I…” Clarke stopped herself for a few seconds to calm her nerves and tried again. “You _know_ why.”

            “Tell me again.” Bellamy commanded. “Tell me why you’re leaving me and I’ll let you go. I deserve that, at the very least.”

            Clarke stared at the man who used to be her everything—all unruly hair and constellations for freckles with that sharp jawline and strong physique—and nodded her head in assent. Her voice, even to her, sounded clinical but this was the way it must be. If he insisted on rehashing the same conversations they’ve been having the last two years, then she would gladly do so. As she has already decided on the resolution, this will change nothing.

            Mind over heart, she was.

            “You must know that the last two years, our relationship has been struggling. Our life goals are no longer aligned no matter how much you say otherwise. You know I’ve been…”

            Clarke paused, unsure of how to go on about it. How could she say it without sounding repetitive or without making it seem like she was blaming him for everything that was happening? How does one sever such a tie? Brushing her hair out of her face, Clarke tried again.

            “I’m tired of it, Bellamy. It’s just too much. I'm leaving you because we can't keep dragging this out. We…” Another pause, marked by heartbroken stares and her equally broken voice. Bellamy moved to reach out to her but caught himself before he could. For that, she was grateful and his hesitance only reminded her of the slow heartbreak that she’s been feeling the last two years. “It’s obvious that we want different things in life now. It’s _so_ obvious and we need to stop this now so we can start over.”

            “With someone else,” pointed out Bellamy. His hardened look betrayed nothing but the stiffness of his shoulders told her everything she needed to know. “You want to start over with someone else.”

            “If I find someone, yes.” Clarke gave him a pitying withering look, though the pitying was more for her than for him. “I have confidence that you would too. Someone who could give you something I can’t. I—”

            “Stop.” Bellamy said. He took several steps away from her and gave her a seething glare that spoke hurt and betrayal and… disappointment. “Stop talking like this. Stop bringing it up. I’m telling you I love you, Clarke. Don't do this to me. To us."

She wished it was true, but their marriage didn’t struggle for two years and they didn’t suffer through heartbreak after heartbreak after heartbreak for him to back off just because he was afraid of losing her. She wouldn’t be her if she let him do this to himself and to her.

            “Bellamy,” called Clarke with a tortured sigh. “I can’t give you what you want.”

            “I _don’t_ want it!” Bellamy hissed back. He rushed towards her and put his hands—warm and strong—on her face, pulling her close so that their noses touched. She didn’t flinch away this time. Bellamy has always been a man yearning for touch and if this was what he needed, she’ll give it to him no matter how much his touch singed her skin. Their eyes met—blue against brown—and held. “I want you. Just you. You don’t have to do this. You don—”

            “Don’t lie to me.”

            “I’m not.”

            “You’re lying right now.”

            Clarke pressed her hands against Bellamy’s chest and pushed herself away from him, no matter how tempting his embrace was. The distance between the two of them was noticeable even more now with her polka-dotted suitcase between them.

            Seeing that, the distance separating them, broke Clarke more than she cared to admit and her tears came unbidden—almost suddenly considering her lock down on her emotions—and she let them fall. Bellamy too had tears running down his face like rivulets running down a window due to the rain. No matter how much she wanted to take her into her arms and tell him everything was going to be alright, her arms resolutely stayed at her sides and she could only watch him.

            If only he didn’t change his mind. If only he didn’t get the job. If only she could give him what he desperately wanted.

            If only.

            But life wasn’t about the ‘if only’s.

            It was about taking your chances, making your choices, and sticking with those choices despite all the consequences.

            No matter how much Bellamy insisted that staying with her until the end was what he wanted, she knew… She knew he would be too honorable and too pure to say otherwise. And if he ended up hating her for his choices down the line, she couldn’t… She couldn’t bear that.

            Clarke thought she could bear a lot of things. She had held her childhood best friend as he bled in her arms from a robbery gone wrong. She had held her father’s cold clammy hands as he took his last breath after a hard battle with cancer. She had held on to and pressed her hands on her fiancée’s gaping chest in an effort to staunch the bleeding during a shooting her third month on the force.  

            All this, Clarke had to bear because she had no choice but to do so. She had held and held and held on to people for fear of letting go. And so, the world decided she was too greedy and took them away from her.

            For Bellamy’s sake and for her own, she can’t bear this.

            She won’t.

            If she couldn’t give him what he wanted, then she has to let him go so he could find someone who would. Even if that someone wasn’t her.

            Clarke never thought she would see this day.

            When she married him five years ago, a divorce was not something she had imagined for their future. And certainly not because of this. But, as life was unpredictable, so are people’s opinions on certain things.

            “Clarke,” cried Bellamy.

            Snapping out of her daze, Clarke turned to look at Bellamy. He stared at her, one hand outstretched as if to reach for her but not knowing how to do so, and gave her a look that almost made her want to bring him into her arms and never let go. For a moment, she contemplated it. But she knew she couldn’t.

            “I can’t do this anymore and you know it.” Clarke declared, her voice now breaking at the sentence. Her eyes were blurry, her nose was running, and her heart… Her heart was aching more than she could imagine—but she had to do it. She had to do this. It was the only way. “I can’t give you the child you want, Bellamy.”

            “I don’t care.”

            “Let me finish.” Clarke looked at Bellamy. She looked at the desperation in his eyes, the tears running down his face, the wedding band she chose for him, and steeled her heart knowing what was coming. “I know you don’t want to change your mind and I know you wish you can take everything back. But the moment you told me you wanted a child, I already knew this was going to happen. Because I can’t give you a child and you know it. I tried to make it work, I really did. I read all the books. I tried to babysit. But I can’t. I don’t want a child. And it’s not because I don’t love you enough, but because…” Clarke paused, unable to continue as the pain caused by her heartbreak and his love and her decision caught up with her. “I just don’t want to bear a child and I realize that’s unfair to you. You would be great father.”

            “I don’t want it anymore.” Bellamy stepped forward again to reach for her but she took another step back away from him. Feeling his touch on her skin, now more than ever, would break her even more and she couldn’t handle that. “ _Clarke_!”

            “You say that.” Clarke scoffed. “You say that and I see you with kids and I can’t bear the longing in your eyes. I just can’t.”

            “I choose you. If I can have anything in the world, I would choose you.” Bellamy let out a laugh that spoke nothing of his amusement. “Don’t leave, Clarke. I… I don’t want a child. Not if it means losing you.”

            Clarke could only stare on.

            Tears streamed uncontrollably down her face.

            “I don’t want to be with someone who is always longing for something else.” Bellamy looked like he wanted to say respond but she spoke before he could. “And you’re right. You are an adult who can make your own decisions and live with the consequences of those decisions. You can say that you’re happy with me, even without a kid in the picture, but Bellamy… I can’t live with myself knowing that you would be happier with someone who can give you what you want.”

            “I’m happy with you. I want _you_.”

            “But you could be happier.” The statement caused more tears to run down her face because at one point in their relationship, she had thought that only she could make him happy. What a fool she was. The ache inside of her was almost impossible to contain and she had to muster all the courage inside of her to not scream ‘don’t leave me!’ at him. Or worst, beg him to change his mind. Because they were past that now. “I want that for you. This is why I’m leaving.”

            “Clarke…”

            “It’s been a rough two years. All the jealousy, all the bitterness, all the heartache—all this _pain_? It was caused by my lack of judgement. Because I kept thinking with my heart and not my head. I kept thinking that if I love you, if I love you _enough_ , then we would be fine. Logically though, if you think about it, we’re not fine and we won’t be fine. I can’t give you what yo—”

            “For fuck’s sake, stop saying that!”

            “I can’t give you what you want, Bellamy.” Clarke repeated, ignoring the seething glare he sent her. “I already made my decision.”

            “Well, I haven’t made mine!”

            Clarke should have controlled herself better.

            She should have kept her emotions in check and not lash out.

            But the moment those words slipped from his lips, all Clarke could see was her own self standing in front of a mirror wondering what it was about her that so incomplete and why she wasn’t enough and she just snapped.

            Clarke didn’t even realize she had slapped him until the sound of the impact broke through the silence of the room. Her hand stung as she brought it back to her side and she held her breath as her eyes returned to him.

            Bellamy stood ramrod straight and was staring down at her with a glare that could rival her own self-hatred. His hands were clenched into fists at his side and for a moment, she wondered if she had gone too far. But before she could convince herself to calm down, she let out a scoff of derision and shook her head. Her eyes stared straight at Bellamy as she declared,

            “You made your decision when you decided to want kids in our previously child- _free_ marriage.”

            The aftermath of her declaration came in the form of Bellamy turning around, muttering ‘ _do whatever the hell you want, princess_ ’ and storming out of the room.

            The door slammed shut with a loud wall shaking bang.

            Clarke found herself standing in the middle of the room for a few moments, unable to put into words all the feelings threatening to escape her locked box of emotions. She had already unleashed some of those emotions on Bellamy and look what that resulted in. The plan was to leave this relationship amicably. After that outburst of hers, she wasn’t sure an amicable split was going to happen. The best she could do now was pack and go. She’s already wasted enough time. She had to calm down and do what must be done.

            Mind over heart, she was.

            One…

            Two…

            Three…

            Clarke picked up the pair of jeans from where she left it on the floor and looked at it again. Did she really want to throw this out? It has given her so many fond memories.

            Six…

            Seven…

            The more she thought about it, the more Clarke wondered why she couldn’t throw this pair of tattered jeans too. She was already throwing out a lot of things. Shirts that could no longer fit her, for one. A seven-year relationship with a great man, for another. Why not this pair of jeans too?

            With that in mind, Clarke quickly grabbed as much clothes as she could from the pile on her side of the bed and shoved everything into the garbage bag marked ‘Goodwill’. Once that bag was full, she unraveled another one and filled it up as much as she could.

            Three hundred…

            Three hundred and one…

            With everything she wanted packed into her suitcase or sorted into the donation pile, Clarke was finally finished. She opened the door and dragged the donation bags down the hallway in silence. She briefly wondered where Bellamy was and if he had left the house without saying good bye.

            Not that she cared.

            It doesn’t matter anymore. Perhaps it was best that he wasn’t there to see her leave.

            The chill of the December air burned her to the bone as she made her way to her beat up Toyota Corolla. She could feel the remains of the tears on her face drying up due to the cold air and she must have looked like a mess. But she didn’t care. She knew she had a pair of gloves somewhere but whether or not she packed it up or threw it out was hard to determine.

            Clarke pulled her coat closer to her body and struggled with pulling and stashing the donation bags into her car. Eventually, she stacked everything into the trunk. Her blue polka dotted suitcase went to the backseat.

            All Clarke needed now was to lock up the house and say good bye—

            Oh.

            Right.

            He might not want to say good bye.

            Clarke paused.

            Then that’s his problem. That’s not hers.

            Clarke slammed the trunk close and turned around to go back to the house, but stopped short when she saw Bellamy standing on the edge of the porch watching her. His threadbare tank top, riddled with stains and wrinkled in all the places, didn't look like it was appropriate wear considering the weather. 

            When their eyes met, it was Bellamy who looked away first. His hands were in his pockets and he wouldn’t look at her when he asked,

            “You got everything you need?”

She slowly nodded.

            “Yeah.”

            “I guess this is it then.”

            “Yeah.” Clarke shifted uneasily where she stood. The fact that he wouldn’t look at her, that he wouldn’t even acknowledge how much she hurt him with her accusation, and the fact that this was and will probably be the last time they talk to each other made her want to scream and shout at him. But she bit the inside of her cheeks again and nodded her head. Her hands shook slightly behind her back and she was grateful he couldn’t see it. “My lawyer will send you the divorce documents soon.”

            “Sounds good to me.”

            The silence that fell between them was hard to describe.

            One car passed by.

            All the emotions running through Clarke’s head and her heart were harder still to put into words.

            Then two cars passed by.

            Before yet another car passed down the street, Clarke cleared her throat and was about to say something to ease the tension when Bellamy suddenly moved. She stopped what she was doing. Bellamy looked like he wanted nothing more than to turn back and walk into the house so he could slam the door on her face and never see her again. But as if he was reminded of something important, he glanced back at her. Ignoring the chill settling into her fingers and tinging her face pink, Clarke straightened her stance and waited for him to speak.

            “You know what’s funny?” Bellamy asked.

His voice carried from the porch to where she stood, the sound heavy with something that was certainly not amusement.

            “What?” She asked, fumbling with her set of keys.

She glanced back at the road, distracted as a jogger passed by on the other side of the street, and looked back.  

            “You once told me you don’t want a child that doesn’t even exist to get between us.” Bellamy brushed his hair away from his face as his eyes stared straight at her, eyes bloodshot and nose red like he had been crying his eyes out before coming out here. Clarke’s stomach plummeted, knowing where he was going with his statement. “And yet here you are, divorcing me for a child that doesn’t exist.”

            Clarke didn’t know where she should scream at him for being deliberately obtuse or cry her eyes out for the ridiculous statement. Perhaps a little bit of both.

            A few moments passed.

            Clarke took a deep breath, brushed her hand over her tired tear-caked face, and look back over at Bellamy. She desperately tried to convey her exasperation, her frustration, and her desperation with one look alone but the way he stared back at her, challenging and focused, told her he couldn’t see it. He was angry and he was lashing out.

            But of course he was.

            She was leaving for good this time and all he wanted to do was dredge things up from the past that could no longer be changed. Was he really not going to say good bye? Was her goal of an amicable split too idealistic?  Had she ruined it with her big mouth? Or has she spent the last two years trying to fix something that was never whole in the first place? 

            “Don’t do this, Bellamy.” She said quietly. It was so cold outside she could see her breath clouding up as she spoke. Was he warm? Why did he come outside in just a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, with no shoes to boot? What was he thinking? “I am divorcing you so you can have the possibility of that child existing. You _know_ that.” 

He scoffed.

             “Keep telling yourself that, princess.”

            The term of endearment, the question she herself had posed, and the only possible answer echoed in her mind. They were all choking her, engulfing her with all the pain and regret, and she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t do anything but hurt the person she swore to love for the rest of her life. Her nails dug into the palm of her skin and her lip felt too swollen from the restraint she was exercising.

            _Look at me!_

_Say something!_

_I love you!_

_I can’t breathe,_ Clarke thought to herself.

            And it felt like all the air left Clarke’s body as Bellamy walked through the entrance to what was once their home and slammed the door shut. He didn’t even spare a glance back at her. Not even once. Not even for a ‘good bye, Clarke’ or anything of the sort.

            The old storm door creaked under the pressure before it too closed after him.

            Suddenly, Clarke found herself alone outside.

            No cars passed by.

            No joggers ran past.  

            For the first time in seven years, Clarke found herself alone.

            The wind was picking up but the gusts of wind flowing through did not chill her body as much as Bellamy’s good bye did. But perhaps that was for the best.

            Clarke quickly opened her car door and got into the driver’s seat.

            Turning on the ignition, cranking up the heart, and putting it into drive took but a minute.

            Without a second thought or a last glance at the house with the doors shut tight, Clarke drove away. Away from all the memories that she and Bellamy had created inside that house. Away from all the promising future that had been scarred away by their marital problems. Away from the one person she thought she would spend forever with.

            She should have learned with Wells. She should have learned with her father. She should have reconciled with the consequences with Lexa. But she didn’t and now she had to bear the pain again. If choosing to put her heart over her mind came with consequences like this, Clarke will be sure to never do it again.

            Never again.

            She would always remember the day she left the house.

            It had nothing to do with the heartbroken tears streaming down her face as she drove away.

            It had nothing to do with the agonizing silent screams she let out in the safety of her car.

            No, it had nothing to do with Bellamy Blake even though he was someone she had created and shared thousands of wonderful memories with for a better part of a decade.

            Mind over heart, she was. 

           The day Clarke Griffin left, the year’s first snowfall had turned into the city’s worse snowstorm in a century.


End file.
